Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Flat (Prompt Fiction)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing.



Like a pancake. Like my beating heart. Like the way Mark Cutter looked when Darcy Jones told him that she wouldn’t go out with a loser like him.

Perfectly flat.

Two-dimensional. Like a cracker, salted and unsalted. Two slices of bread, like the sandwich that Karen gave Miles for lunch last weekend.

Really, really, flat.

Steam-rolled all nice. Like my cake. Like Jenny Marco’s chest as those rude boys just had to point it out because she refused AnnaMarie’s initiation offer.


What I really am, when I stand here and see everything and say absolutely…nothing.

(c) Sara Harricharan

Monday, February 11, 2013

Learn (Prompt Fiction)

Found on google images. I own nothing.



What could you possibly teach me? I want to know more, to do more, to be more. I don’t know that I want to learn.

What is this word you keep shoving at my face and stuffing down my throat? Do I look like a statue to you? Something unfeeling and uncaring and made of pure, white stone? I am not that cold. I am not that pure.

I am me.

I am different.

My differences make me want to be more. I want to know, but I do not want to learn this strange thing you ask of me.

(c) Sara Harricharan